


Demonstrations

by Avirra



Series: An Unholy Alliance [17]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe
Genre: Gen, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 04:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avirra/pseuds/Avirra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Academy Year Two.  Kirk's spot at the top of some of his classes has been taken and he decides it's time to get a closer look at his competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demonstrations

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, in my version of the Mirror-verse, the emphasis is on political maneuvering and manipulation rather than on violence and sex - though violence and sex are both certainly have their places (nothing overly graphic). Think in terms of more Machiavelli and less Caligula. Some cursing is also present.

The 'unholy alliance' of Kirk and McCoy made it through the remainder of their first year, still alternating who was at the top of their shared classes. It had only taken two more 'disappearances' for even the most dull witted of their fellow cadets to figure out that they were not a pair to mess with. There were plenty of easier targets.

Entering the second year of classes, Kirk had another worry. Second year Command Track students had to spend time away from campus, sometimes off-planet at Starbases for up to a month at a time. There hadn't been any recent attempts, but the last had been made when the medical classes called for McCoy to go to a distant training hospital. Kirk had survived the assassination attempt, but it drove home the point that they were feared as a team, but not as individuals. Yet.

McCoy couldn't help but notice Kirk's poor mood and finally questioned it after the first round of second year testing was over.

"What's with you lately, Jim? You're ornerier than a Shetland pony in a field full of long legged mares."

Pausing mid-walk, Kirk gave McCoy a bemused look.

"Do you stay up nights thinking of things like that to say?"

"Naw. You bring it out in me. So - tell me what's up."

"Just thinking. You know I'm going to have to go off for field studies this year."

"Yeah, I know. Oh. You think the dim bulbs are going to come out of hiding and make an attempt on me while you're away."

Kirk nodded as he moved up to where the test results were posted.

"65% know better, but 30% are new and 5% are idiots. Some of the ones that don't even view us as rivals are viewing us as a challenge."

"Shame we can't just pack them up and let them go play with the Romulans if they want a challenge that damn bad."

The cursing coming from Kirk brought McCoy's attention back to the board.

"What is it?"

"My scores in Theoretical Physics have been topped. Hey, Bones - have you seen this name before?"

Coming over to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Kirk, McCoy read the name out loud.

"Pavel Chekov? Nope. New one to me. Wait. That means either a second year got a brain transplant or he's one of the new class."

A green hand settled on each of their shoulders as Gaila moved to stand between them to gaze at the test listing.

"Oh, would you look at that? My little buddy is killing the class rankings."

That got both men to turn their heads toward her.

"Little buddy? You know this Chekov fellow?"

"Oh, sure, Jim. We're both in the same Transporter Theory class. I try to keep an eye out for him."

The last comment got McCoy's attention. He knew Gaila had a tender heart that really was put to the test in daily Academy life. She had learned to handle it by isolating herself with very few exceptions. The fact that this Chekov had made the exceptions list? That was something to ask about.

"Why are you keeping an eye on him? And how did he end up in your class? You weren't held back in anything."

Her merry laugh even managed to put a dent in Kirk's bad mood.

"How have you two managed not to hear about Pavel? He tested out of the entire first year and was put into our class."

That rang a bell and Kirk's eyes lit up with recognition.

"That's the name of the Russian whiz-kid? He's what? Sixteen?"

"That's him. And no, not until his next birthday."

McCoy looked back to the boards again, his expression showing plainly how impressed he was as well as highly amused that the name belonged to a Russian prodigy who couldn't even get into a bar legally. Looking back to Kirk, he could see some of the bad mood still lingered.

"Don't begrudge someone else in this place having brains, Jim. Lord knows they're rare enough around here. Besides, think of his age. He's got to have something going for him beyond brains or he never would have survived to take the first battery of tests."

McCoy's comment seemed to have more than the intended effect. Not only did Kirk's bad mood clear, he became thoughtful. Both McCoy and Gaila tensed automatically. A thoughtful James Kirk was not always a good thing.

"You know, you have a point, Bones. I think we should get better acquainted with this Pavel Chekov. Gaila? Would you handle the introductions?"

Biting her lower lip slightly, Gaila looked torn, so Kirk put his hand under her chin.

"Bones was right. Real brain power is hard to come by. I won't promise you that he will never be on my bad side, but I can tell you that he isn't on it right now. And the odds of he and I getting along will be greatly improved if our first meeting is through you. Right?"

She looked into his eyes, then formed a small hesitant smile.

"Right."

Beaming at her, Kirk turned her around before she knew what was happening.

"No time like the present. Right, Bones?"

The tone of Kirk's voice mixed in with his body language told McCoy that absolutely no good would come of arguing against it.

"If you say so, Jim."

"I do. Lead the way, Gaila."

Apparently Gaila also knew the signs that said it was best to just go along with what Kirk wanted. As she led them toward one of the residence buildings, McCoy frowned.

"Whoa. He's still housed with the first years?"

"It even worse than that, Leonard. They have him roomed with a Security recruit. I don't know that Pavel's even slept in his room. The guy's made no secret that he hates 'brainiacs'."

A small frown formed on Kirk's face, but he remained silent. This kid didn't sound impressive if he couldn't even keep his spot in his own room, but on the other hand, Gaila didn't tend to gravitate to what he would consider losers. He decided to wait and see.  Bones was right that there had to be more to the story or the kid would already have been eaten alive by the piranhas masquerading as other cadets.

As they approached the young man, Kirk barely held in a groan. He had hoped the young Russian at least looked older than his age, but if anything, he looked even younger. Chekov wasn't very tall and, unless he had a massive growth spurt in the next couple of years, he'd never see the six foot mark except by looking up. Add to that a mass of curly hair and a face that could only be referred to as baby-ish? How had this kid even survived to reach the Academy?

Then he noticed the eyes. The kid's green eyes were in constant motion. Chekov might trust Gaila, but he obviously wasn't automatically extending that trust to whoever happened to be with her. That showed he was smart in ways other than just with books.

Since she was committed, Gaila had put on a bright face and moved to make the introductions.

"James Kirk, Leonard McCoy - meet Pavel Chekov. Make a guess how many knives he has on him."

The illusion of boyish innocence was shattered for a moment by the malevolent look Chekov shot at Gaila. The look didn't seem to bother her in the least as she chuckled and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Everyone has to sleep at least occasionally, Pavel. You could do a lot worse in the way of allies, but I doubt you could do better."

"Three."

McCoy looked over at Kirk, who gave him a shrug.

"Gaila wanted us to guess - I guess three."

After a look from Kirk to Gaila, Chekov also gave a small shrug.

"Ten. Not counting the visible one."

Since he really wasn't sure he wanted to know where the kid had that many knives hidden, McCoy asked a related question.

"Are you any good with them?"

"Da. I am very good with them."

That prompted Kirk's question.

"Really? Then why is your roommate still alive?"

The frustrated expression on Chekov's face made Kirk start to rethink his assumptions.

"Because I was told that if my roommate were found dead in our room, I would be shipped back to Russia and lose my chance to be at the Academy until I turn eighteen. I do not want to waste three years because I could not put up with an idiot."

McCoy and Kirk both started chuckling at the same time. Chekov gave Gaila a puzzled glance, but she was as confused as he was until Kirk looked back to them, smiling with a dark look in his eyes.

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to make sure he's not found in your room."

"Assuming he's found at all."

Chuckling again, Kirk nodded.

"Bones has a point. Tell you what, Chekov. We all go see about your roommate - Wixson, isn't it? You impress Bones and myself with your knife skills? We'll take care of the body."

The desire to show off his skills, the pleasant thought of getting rid of his hated roommate and native caution all warred inside Chekov for a moment before he spoke again.

"Why is it I should bother trying to impress the two of you with my skills?"

"Because my mentor told me at least one truth, Chekov. No-one can make a success of a Starfleet career without support. All four of us have different talents, but you're like us. Aptitude scores off the charts. Forget all other considerations for a minute and just consider this - would you rather ally with brains or brawn?"

There was no hesitation before Chekov answered.

"Brains."

"Then show us what you can do. I have an important job that I need taken care of, but I'm not about to trust it to just anyone. Also, impressing me is one way to possibly get yourself noticed by Captain Pike. There's a lot of cadets that would be willing to do a lot more than what I'm asking just for the chance to be considered for the Enterprise when she leaves Earth."

By the way Chekov's eyes lit up at the mention of the Enterprise, Kirk knew he'd found the item that tipped the scale. McCoy apparently recognized it as well since he turned to Gaila.

"Time to make yourself scarce, Gaila, my dear."

She gave a heavy sigh, but she knew McCoy was right. She knew what went on and had a very good idea about what was about to happen, but she didn't get into watching it.

"Should I go to a public place again, Leonard?"

"No, in fact? Changing it up might be a good thing. really, you can go anywhere that it can be proven where you were. Weren't you talking about a engineering lab you wanted to run through? Since you sign in and out of the labs, be easy enough to prove where you were later."

Nodding, Gaila headed off to gather the things she needed for her research project. She wasn't worried about leaving Chekov alone with Kirk and McCoy now. He'd be fine unless he did something really dumb.

Once she had left, Chekov took the lead. He took Kirk and McCoy to a relatively secluded area, then asked the two to wait there. It was about fifteen minutes later when Chekov returned in the company of a cadet that was considerably larger than the late 'Cupcake', probably at least six foot five. Kirk could see why Chekov would be wary of Wixson. The guy could cause severe injuries to someone just by sitting on them.

Wixson slowed when he caught sight of Kirk and McCoy loitering in the area and turned to Chekov.

"You said we were going to settle things between us, shrimp!"

Deliberately making a show of sitting down, Kirk called out.

"Don't mind us. We're just here to watch."

Shrugging, McCoy followed Kirk's example and sat down next to him. Once Wixson was satisfied that they were just spectators, it didn't take long for him to start the fight. Without warning. Fortunately for him, Chekov was apparently expecting something like that.

The fight was never a sure outcome. Chekov was more agile and quicker, but one lucky blow from Wixson could have turned the tables quickly. The knife work was often too fast to follow, but Kirk couldn't see where Chekov was doing any real damage.

"What is he doing, Bones? Dragging out this fight isn't going to be to his advantage. The bigger guy is bound to have more stamina."

McCoy was, of course, looking at the fight differently than Kirk was.

"He might for the moment, Jim, but all those little cuts are bleeding. Wixson is going to start feeling that before long. Besides, I think I see Chekov's game plan. See how he's looking for an opening to get behind him?"

Leaning forward a bit to better watch the hummingbird fast moves, Kirk soon saw what McCoy was talking about, but wasn't positive what good going behind him would do for Chekov. The opening finally came and the slash at the back of Wixson's leg was followed by a scream as the large man toppled. Neither the scream or the man lasted long after that. Getting back up, Kirk applauded.

"Well, I was impressed. How about you, Bones?"

"Best blade work I've seen from a non-surgical trainee. You know, with a few anatomy lessons, you could make those running cuts a lot more effective."

It took a moment for Chekov to answer. He was breathing hard and trying to catch his breath now that the fight was over.

"I will keep that in mind, Doctor."

Circling the body with a smirk forming, McCoy spoke again.

"Head on back to your room. Get cleaned up and get some sleep. We'll take care of this and talk to you tomorrow."

McCoy waited until Chekov had left before commenting again.

"Can you imagine how fast that kid would have been if he hadn't been exhausted to start with?"

"Chekov was pretty impressive as it was. I missed the move that dropped him. What did Chekov do?"

"Very old maneuver that's called hamstringing. I can't really explain the details without going into anatomy details that wouldn't mean much to you, but basically, he sliced through a muscle/tendon group that allows you to move your leg. It was used centuries ago as a method of torture. Painful, crippling and potentially fatal due to blood loss if not treated promptly. Chekov has a grasp of at least some basic anatomy, but with a few pointers, he could have had Wixson down faster."

So, speaking of Wixson - how are we disposing of this guy? He's not exactly a lightweight."

"One advantage of Puri openly becoming my sponsor."

Pulling out his communicator, McCoy adjusted a setting.

"McCoy to Department 30. Code blue."

~Acknowledged. Are you onsite?~

"Affirmative."

Kirk stepped back as the hum of a teleport became audible. A man solidified, gave a brief nod and handed something to McCoy as he moved over to the body. The man gave Wixson's remains a quick lookover, then activated his own communicator.

"Beaming back with a package. Weight approximately 100 kilograms."

A minute later, nothing but blood remained to show a fight even occurred in the area. McCoy pointed the small device he'd been handed at the first bloodied area and before long, even the blood was gone. At Kirk's obvious curiosity, McCoy showed him that small object that wasn't much larger than the scanner he'd made for testing drinks.

"It's built on some of the same principles as phasers, but it's used to dispose of biologic matter. Doesn't have enough power to disrupt living matter, but it works fine for basic cleanup of blood, flesh and such. One day, I'll get one of my own to keep in my kit."

"Why not get one now?"

Giving the device a look as he sighed, McCoy gave a rueful chuckle.

"Same hold up as for a lot of other things I'd like to have. Not enough credits to my name. Believe me, they'll come looking for me if I don't turn this back in at the hospital."

"That reminds me, where did he take Wixson?"

"This is the Academy, Jim. Cadavers are always needed. When Doctor Puri took me on, he put me in the system as one of the ones authorized to add cadavers to the system - no questions asked so long as they don't outrank me."

Kirk threw an arm over McCoy's shoulders and started walking back to the main part of the campus.

"You should make a list of things that you want, Bones. In fact, I think I already know a way that you could barter so that you can get a - whatever you call it - for your very own."

"We call it a defluoroner. Comes from a Latin word that can mean either waste or disappear depending on the context. But back to the subject at hand, what the hell do I have to barter with?"

"Pike caught me making use of the scanner you made for me. He'd like a pair of them for himself and Puri. If they provide the materials and then pay you for your labor and knowhow with a deflu . . . - that thing?"

McCoy chuckled.

"I've heard you curse in Klingon and you trip over Latin?"

"Cursing in Klingon is as much a thing of getting the tone right as getting the sounds right. Latin doesn't flow as well. Come on, Bones. It's been a good day. Let's go grab something to eat."

"Say, Jim - what is the job you were talking about considering Chekov for?"

"I'll tell you about it while we eat."


End file.
